Hitting the Ground
by pedal
Summary: Told in second person present. Yeh, weird, I know. Title comes from the everpresent phrase falling in love. Yuugi does this with many inner and outer struggles. As always, it's a oneshot. Pairing: YuugiYami


Hitting the Ground

Written: July 2004

Disclaimer: If I owned them, Kaiba'd be wearing a whole lot less clothes than he usually does. Oh, and any random allusions you might see...Are only allusions. To things not owned by me.

Author's note: OH GOD. I wrote this, worked on this FOREVER, then just read it out loud and decided I needed to add a small part in the middle and it'd be done. Crazy, no?

Hitting the Ground

By Pedal

So safe. So warm. Why can't they understand?

Joey doesn't understand. He misses being your protector, being your best friend. He says all your attention is focused on nothing but his shadow. Then you tell Joey"That's what he is, Joey. Shadow."

You look at him, your dark half, and think, 'Why can't I be more like him?' Are you supposed to hate being small and weak and...

And light.

Light?

His light...

You find yourself getting the most wonderful feeling when you're around him. Everything feels right when he's around; you complete the other better then the pieces of a puzzle, better than yin and yang, better than goddamn cookies and milk.

Because, simply because you know the connection between you is supported by simple things, like friendship and admiration. It's held up by magic, too, but there's something else that you keep thinking matters more than all that. That one little word that is everything to you.

That one huge deal that gets Joey so worked up that you hug him with your face in his chest to get him to calm down.

"It's okay," you say to him, but he's still so worried. He doesn't want you to get hurt.

But your darkness, your other half, your love. He'd never hurt you. You tell Joey that, but he's still not convinced. He's confused and you want to pinch his cheek for being so damn cute.

But then you want to scream and pull your hair because he still doesn't get it.

You shout to him while the two of you stand outside that one secret door of the school. It's raining and sleeting and it's going to hail and it's so fucking cold but you don't care because you're screaming.

You're screaming that you love your darkness.

Suddenly it's quiet. Suddenly the rain and sleet and hail are quiet because your ears seem to pop and are blocking out everything but your rapid heartbeat and Joey's breathing.

His eyes are bigger than yours, you think off to the side, a random thought that later you'll wonder when you conjured it. The brown puppy orbs that make you cry because Joey's supposed to understand and be supportive and always love you for things like this because he's your friend and friends just get things like that.

And you cry.

"Fuck," he says, and you jump. "Fuck, Yugi."

"Joey," you barely choke out because it's so cold that you can see that damn word more clearly than you can hear it. You blink in realization when it comes to you that you aren't speaking well, but not on account of the cold. You're scared and crying and sniffling and just want to go home because you suddenly miss your love more than anything. He understands everything you feel.

"No, man. Just... I need time tuh think, dat's all."

The bell rings, but you can barely hear it from outside. You hadn't noticed that your ears were working correctly again. You look over to see Téa standing, knocking, smiling, waiting for you and Joey to get inside and to class. The door would've locked without her there to hold it open for you. She doesn't know.

But...

But that's good since she wouldn't understand, and she would be sad. She loves him too, and you used to love her. Despite that, she is your friend and always will be, and you feel you must love her for that. Still, she couldn't ever understand.

Joey nudges you in and then past you because he wants to get away and is too mad to talk to you anymore right then.

So many things are telling you to go home and run and faint and chase and cry and hurt. You do cry and you do hurt and you need your darkness.

It's lunch and he's there so you both go into that room by where people are eating. That dark room with all the black chairs and beautiful pieces of wood that you love to play on. The instruments that your favorite noises come out of, making you find right then and there that your darkness' voice is as sweet as a cello's.

You cry there and shake and are so scared that he does not talk to you but just sits down and pulls you into him. You're like that through the short lunch time. You know he's confused and worried but he doesn't ask because you'll tell him everything when you're ready. He knows that if he hugs you then you'll feel happier than however you feel now. You like that when you are happy, he is too.

When he has to go, you're sad, then almost excited because orchestra is next and you'll talk to Joey again before class starts. Stoked and scared out of you mind at talking to him. You'll have things sorted out, but then you could lose him as a friend.

Joey looks at you with a tired, mostly pained expression marring his features. Finally, after twisting a piece of notebook paper in his hands, he pushes it into your hands and winces, hurting at himself. "I... Gotta go tuh my lockuhr" is the excuse he comes up with to run away again until just a couple more things are sorted out. You think to yourself that that's good because he's Joey. Little by little is good.

"Okay. Bye," you mumble quietly and mostly to yourself, and you don't know why. You don't know why you do things like that. They must make you feel better no matter how silly they are. You walk steadily to your class while unfolding the note, careful not to further damage its already torn edges that Joey fiddled with and cried on. You can tell by the darker dots and the blurred pen. As you saunter slowly across the loud noisy wooden gym, you smile when you see Joey's messy handwriting in bold green pen. It's all in capital letters, except the Es. Words here and there are spelled oddly, and bundles of scribbles decorate the whole note.

Finally, you read it, feeling a little better because that's how Joey's taking it; little by little.

_Yugi,_

_...There's a lotta things I could say to someone I thogt had a danjerous freind, but I can't say them now. He isn't a freind to you. He's more. Nothing someone can say can stop someone from being in love. Unless I could prove he didn't care-and I can't- You wouldn't even lissen to me, let alone beleeve me. Becauise... I don't no. Love is like that... I gess... You think I'm being blind, I no. But I didn't want to hurt you, man. I'm just scard._

_Joey_

Your heart hurts and it's so cute and so...Joey. But then you keep hurting at it all. You want to just talk to him. You can't.

He's going to the library all hour, you find out, and are pissed because he has the rosin in his backpack and you can't talk to him until you have all the time in the world in case you need it. But then you need the rosin so the other bass players will stop yelling at you you're his best friend why can't you get it? The instructor will let you. So you go.

Things are like normal, like they were before your other half was separate from you. You walk into the library and see Joey writing emails at a computer, wondering how he could've gotten away with this and what did he tell the orchestra teacher. "I need the rosin," you tell him, and you have to repeat after he's taken off his headphones. He gets it out of his backpack and gives it to you, telling you he needs it back real soon.

On your way back to orchestra, you stop at the bathroom since you have the hall pass and have to splash water in your face just to make sure you won't start crying again.

After school you're so quiet and look so small that Bakura and Téa above all else have to cheer you up and they end up going to your house with you to do so. You waited and waited for Joey outside the orchestra room like he said he'd be and you still have the rosin and he's there.

He's there. Not Joey, but the one person you keep needing. He looks so sad and is pouting more than you ever thought possible that all you want to do is curl up into him and tell him everything's going to be okay. At the top of the stairs... so sad. You feel he doesn't want to be near you but you're confused. No. He thinks you don't want to be near him.

"No!" you shout and think it's only in yours and his mind, but can't even notice it isn't. You shut out the fact that Téa and Bakura are right there next to you and you run up the stairs to him. He's not crying but his eyes are wet and shiny and so beautiful and looks so tired and so pitiful and you hug him for all you're worth.

"No! Stop that! You aren't the reason I feel the way I do today! Don't you think that for a second! I could never be mad at you, ever! It's not your fault! Nothing of this your fault! I-" you scream and scream and suddenly your face is wet. Rigid. At first he's so surprised that you're hugging him, but then he melts into you and you can hear him breath you in with a sigh of relief and your heart is pounding in your head. You said I. You almost said it.

You almost lost him forever and you're kicking yourself for ever thinking that you could just grow up. Just grow up and not have to worry about those silly crushes because when you're so in love and so afraid like that, you don't want to tell him and everything is so much harder that way. Somehow it makes you feel better, safer. Then you think back and yell at yourself, that annoying voice, that this isn't a silly crush because you are bound to him with friendship and love and magic.

You love him, and that is everything.

It hurts so much. You're always aching in your body and mind from keeping all that from him. Your soul room that was bright and full of toys is too organized that it's getting messier than before and things are breaking and soon you won't be able to keep that secret from him. Soon the door will crack and he'll see that you love him more than anything else and he'll be surprised.

Or maybe he won't. You can't tell, and it bugs you. But then no matter what he'll hate you forever and ever; you're so sure of it. Or maybe he'll ignore you but stay because he can't survive apart from you, no matter how much magic is used. So you have to keep your secret as long as you can no matter how stupid it sounds to you or anyone else. All you are is a scared little boy who is too afraid to try it the hard way even though it'll be easier on the both of you in the end.

You're glad that he is friends with Téa and Bakura because if Tristan or Duke or someone like that, like Joey, was around, everything would be uncomfortable and you'd have to go through feeling bad about making up an excuse for them to leave. But you and him and Téa and Bakura all talk about many things that are really nonsensical and make you feel better or worse; you can't really tell.

Off to the side you know Téa is just sweet and smart and in love with your darkness so she obviously has no problem with him. But she's so pretty and sweet and smart that why wouldn't he like her more than you? Either way, it feels okay to have her around to talk to and be talked at because Téa just makes people feel better. You don't hate her because you want him to be happy, and you could never hate someone who's been your friend since forever when no one else wanted to. She loves you, but not like that.

The looks she gives him make you smile politely on the outside when on the inside you're shrieking at yourself for not being like that. If you were like her, your darkness would see you as more, or at least respect you more, but if that happened, he'd be ashamed that you were not yourself. The looks he gives back to her confuse you more than anything. They're unsure and you think he might hurt inside whenever he gives her those looks. It's as if he doesn't want to hurt her. As if he doesn't really love her back that way, but then you know that would only work if he was really in love with someone else. You know you can't be wrong about this the way you are connected so deeply to him. You are positive he is in love with someone that is not her and that's what confuses you. Who is it and how amazing are they that someone like him, even though people like him do not exist, would be attracted to them with such love, with anything.

Téa can't see the looks he gives her, the looks he hands her that are supposed to tell her that his heart does not belong to her. She ignores them or does not see them because she is still so fascinated with him that at all costs she needs to be with him. That makes you sad because you want her to be happy as well, but if she keeps him at that high of a regard, everything will end in heartbreak.

Bakura you swear understands this, the way you love your other half, but then you find that he has to and really can't all at the same time. His darkness is cruel and nasty and terrible that Bakura hates him and hurts from him everyday, in every way possible. But then he has and never could feel that special way towards him, or if he does you think that's really insane because of how much pain Bakura has to go through. You've seen him when he's at school and when he cries and cries and when he's not at school. He's like a bird with broken and cut up wings and his darkness is the horrible dog that carried him in his mouth too many times the wrong way.

The way Bakura looks at you makes you hurt. He envies you and way you are with your dark half. Your darkness and you are friends, and on a friend level, you love each other more than anything in the world and through your minds you tell each other that every hour of every day. Bakura looks at you and wants to be you and be treated like you are by your darkness. Bakura's darkness doesn't respect him on any level and that's one of the most unbearable concepts because Bakura is his light, his half and darkness does not abuse light like that and take it over, it dwells as polite shadows that fill in where light is absent. Light does the same thing and chases away some of the most terrible shadows.

Light and dark are too together to conflict the way Bakura and his do. Bakura is so kind and innocent and everything a light should be but his other can't see that as good. His other for whatever reason must hate him and hurt him and you hate that.

Too much later, after watching a movie, they are gone and you get nervous because now your darkness wants to know why you had been and are so subdued and melancholy if it's not something he did. You tell him Joey and you are in a rut when you know you'll have to tell your other half why because he'll ask you irresistibly in a voice you melt every time its sweet sound reaches your ears. But you can't tell him and you're mad because you shouldn't have said anything in the first place even though you'll feel bad no matter what and no matter what you cannot tell him your secret. Keeping anything from the other between you is so unnatural that now he'll be sad and pouty all over again because of you. Not only that, but he is the reason you can't tell him why you and Joey are fighting. He knows that; he didn't even have to sense it.

You're making him cry and you hate yourself for it and you want to tell him so badly right now that the hurt is stronger than ever and you hate yourself hate yourself hate yourself.

You tell him that you want to tell him and suddenly he feels all your pain and fright and everything but the secret through your link and knows how much it hurts you to keep it in and why can't you just tell him? You need him. If you tell him, you'll never be able to not need him so it'll hurt more than it does now. You're so close to him right now. Nothing can happen that will shatter that.

The one tiny thing you're happy about that stands above all of these pains is that no matter how crazy it is that he's so oblivious is the fact that he is. He's still, through everything, clueless to your infatuation with him. Somehow he doesn't know, lifting your spirits that slightest bit while confusing you to no end.

How doesn't he know? The way you act around him, look up to him, care and toil at him, hug him, speak to him, everything is screaming your love for him. Can he actually tell and just doesn't want to break the strong friendship you bear at the moment? There's a nagging possibility that...

You hate how crazy it sounds.

There's the nagging chance, just a little thought in the back of your mind that he might return all of your feeling exactly the same way.

You can feel your heart swell and beat like mad whenever you think of the possibility. But then... That's all it is. A possibility. The chance of him loving you back seems so low that you've nearly put it out of your mind and you hate that you haven't yet because the one thing you never want to do is get your hopes up.

But now he's sad and what if he likes you even less and you have to tell him but you can't but you have to tell him and what are you going to do it hurts it hurts so much what are you going to do.

And oh god he can tell. He can tell the part of your story that you won't tell him is about him. Something you and Joey didn't agree on, is that what you said"He feels you are unsafe under my charge, and that I will hurt you."

What? That sounds exactly like it! You don't have to tell him"My feelings are not hurt, little one. I have done a number of deeds concerning questionable behaviors. Why should he feel safe" You smile and tell him you were afraid that he'd be sad, but he is a little bit, but he doesn't care and you smile and smile. You feel stronger and safer and everything is so much more perfect. But... You haven't told him. You can hold it off for longer but you'll have to tell him.

Then there's Joey. Then there's your best friend who is not connected to you in such a way who is confused and scared and worries about you so much. He thinks the person you feel the safest around is dangerous and that you are blinded by love. You need to tell Joey that you felt very safe even before you knew you loved your darkness. You need to tell Joey that he should trust you and why would your darkness hurt you and he will have to accept all this or not be your friend because if anything else happens, you'll just fight with him again about it.

He comes, a little later, and says he needs the rosin for a church thing he's playing in. You ask him how much time he had before he needs to really be on his way and he tells you like ten maybe fifteen minutes so you ask him to stay and talk with you. You take him up to your room because no one's there and he shuts that door, sitting down on your toy box, watching you and not wanting to.

Looking at him hard from your seat on your bed, you tell him everything you can to try and make him feel better about your decision and you understand and what exactly is on his mind? He's so confused and you tell him everything you can about how you and your other half are connected but he doesn't really get it even though you tried toning it down so that he really would. You get more and more frustrated but let it go. You let it go, knowing that sometime you'll be glad you did because poor Joey he's so confused and needs to get through this with an open mind and he can't if you have a closed one.

He has to go but he'll try his hardest he said; he'll try his hardest to accept your love. You're tired but happy and sad but not and dizzy but still tired. Sleep sounds so good so you find your darkness and tell him you're going to sleep and he should too if he doesn't want to disturb you later so he does. So safe and so warm.

You feel him curl around you and pull you close and your heartbeats and his breath and his smell and his warmth drag you down into such a drowse that you can barely move but you love it all so much that you really don't care and this is what you love best because you're so safe and so warm. You know you'll always love him. What's going to happen and how do you manage to fall asleep every night with your heart buzzing away so hard like that?

All this. All this is like one of those roller coasters that are inside and pitch black and so much longer than they seem. You keep asking why am I so cold why is it too hot why can't I see where I'm going why is this so scary? Then the lights always flicker on at points that seem so random. Just for a second or less, they turn on and startle you, making you scream at yourself, curling up and asking why you had your arms up like that because it's so long but so cramped that the closeness of everything makes you think you'll kill your hands on a railing you've already been on. And suddenly everything's behind you because you're shooting through the most confusing, frightening thing. Everything you're going through is a blind coaster.

And some how in the middle of it all, you're always wanting to run away and die and what's keeping you here? Something is-it's not nothing; that would be silly. Something's tying you down, pulling you to him, where you belong. If that tie could be severed and you are still close to him, that'd be perfect. But then right now you're so trapped and it's one thing or the other because you can't steer very well in between. One way or the other and you want the other when you're in one. You can't be happy right now and that's what's so frustrating.

Running away from the problem would make you sad. No matter what, you'll be forever tainted by the notion that you left the only person you ever really loved.

Staying could end like that, too. He could hate you, he could be away with you, and you're almost sure that's what will happen. Almost. If he didn't... If he leaned down to you after you told him and lifted your chin up from where you had it when you were staring at the floor. If he took your chin and tilted it up so softly with his hand and leaned down to kiss away the frightened tears running from your wet eyes and then kissed you. Not on the cheeks or forehead or nose, but really kissed you.

The way kisses must feel, his lips first brushing past yours and then up to capture yours, pressing against yours as if claiming you. But really he's reassuring you, letting you know it's okay and he really does love you to and oh god this is too good to be true. It's exactly like everyone says it is, but its not since no words in any language could ever express this.

You're almost smiling but you can't because he's kissing you and your heart is over there somewhere, everywhere bouncing off the walls that are suddenly spinning because nothing is making sense and it feels so good and you never want it to end and it's getting hard to breathe.

You gasp as you pull away, but really you gasp as you wake up because your body woke you up because you're so nervous. It's not morning, which is good. Morning right now would suck. And you need to lie just a little longer curled up in your pharaoh. You feel so warm and fuzzy and you almost want to cry. That's how good you feel right now.

And that's how nice it would be if he loved you back, you think, quietly smiling. This is actually a bit difficult since you want to make high-pitched-noises and laugh out loud and hum a million different things at once. Your neck and the right side of your head hurts so you grab a random pillow that the bed spat out earlier and turn over so you're lying on your left side facing him. You curl up as comfortably as possible, making sure your face is essentially in his chest. His smell is sleep itself; nothing can smell sleepier than him. He smells like sleep and cats and the dark and the couch. The couch smells like him, really, because he sleeps way more than half the day. Maybe that's why he smells like sleep.

Even though you're positive he's asleep, he curls around your tiny frame and pulls you even closer, and you think, "This is why I love him."

It's okay. It's finally okay. You can suddenly breathe a little better because Joey came and needed to take a shower at your house randomly to get ready for work, but he came over. All he needed to do was come in the door of the shop, smile at you and Grandpa and sheepishly ask if he can take a shower here.

When he's done you hear him run up the stairs, taking two at a time because his legs are longer than yours and he walks into your bedroom, seeing you at your desk studying and your darkness on your bed on his belly reading. He smiles with his eyes shut because he's running his hands through his wet hair, saying how much better he feels. First about being clean, but then about everything.

He says he talked to Téa and Bakura and they do understand, you can tell from the way Joey's talking; they really do get it. Joey is so much your best friend right now because he's telling you without giving anything away to your other self who is smiling because now you and Joey are smiling at each other again. Joey keeps saying he should leave soon, but for ten minutes, at the least, he stays and apologizes and tells both you and your darkness that as long as you trust him and Téa and Bakura do, so does he. Before he really does leave though, you hug him for all that you're worth saying thank you, Joey, thank you and your darkness shakes hands with him.

And you're so happy then, and so is the pharaoh stretched on your bed just because you're happy.

Oh gods. Oh my gods.

You can't think of much else that really makes any sense, not that that does. Maybe how in the world did you ever get yourself into this would be another thought. Then you correct yourself because it's obvious how you did: you had to go and be upset without telling him why and of course you can't tell him because everything you know will happen will happen in the worst possible way. Therefore, you have no qualifying sane thoughts.

Back and forth and over again and you can't even count or even guess how many times you've paced over the same spot. Not line, not circle, just spot, that one spot that's between the living room and kitchen and hallway and dining room and staircase. You've already heard Grandpa bang from the shop with a broom to get you to stop but you can't. You have no pattern, no figure eight or anything like that. You just keep pacing, not really wearing down the carpet as much as your darkness' sanity. He's worrying more and more with each time you walk over that one spot at the top of the stairs...

And suddenly he's there and so close but he looks angry and confused and sad and hurt and worried and just like he's going to start crying if you don't tell him anything. It's almost like he doesn't want to hear since it would make him sad and make you sad because why would you not tell him unless it was making you sad? His hands are so big and make you feel so small but tingly because you can't not feel tingly when he touches you like the way he is now. He's squeezing your shoulders just enough to make your heart hurt but not your shoulders. He's told you he could never hurt you. Not on purpose.

You shut your eyes tight and tighter and tighter, hoping that will make it all go away and you shrug so you look smaller. Your teeth are gritted and your lips are pouted over them. Your palms hurt because your hands are in fists so tight that the fingernails are digging into skin. And then you don't even realize that you're crying until he thumbs away your tears in the softest way possible and kisses your right eyelid.

You pull your hands to your chest, right below your collarbone and open your soaking eyes to look at him in wonder. He cares so much. More than you thought he ever could about you. But that's because you're his other half, his light. One of his hands is still on your shoulder, but then the other... The other is still on your face, gently stroking the hair above your ear with his fingertips which is driving you crazy in such a good way so you lower your head again and shut your eyes slowly.

The hand on your shoulder tightens its grip while the other slides down your neck to your back and he pulls you into him, and the whole time his hand doesn't leave your body. And because your arms are between yours and his chest, he wraps both of his arms all the way around you and you feel so warm and safe and sleepy and giddy but you still mustn't tell him.

"Please... What is it," he begs in the sweetest, deepest voice that is so quiet but not a whisper. You can tell the way you can feel its purr on your forehead before he places his chin on the top of your head. You only bury your face in that warm, sweet spot between his neck and shoulder and chest, hoping that you can get away from that pain in your heart that he's causing by asking you this.

No. He's not causing it. You are. It's because you won't answer him. And you try to tell him that, but what comes out is different. "I can't tell you," you hear yourself choke out in the most pathetic tone.

And what hurts more than anything is the pain coming from inside when you straighten your arms out, which pushes you away from him. Why the hell are you doing this, you scream at yourself and go behind him to the couch. Still not really thinking, you furl up in the corner of the couch, the old, creaky forest green couch that's older than you are. And you hug your legs to yourself and face the back of the couch, which is a bit low so immediately he drops to his knees so he is at eye level with you, but you have your face in your knees as soon as he does this.

That's why. You think that if you keep being so close to him like this you might lose what little control you have over this stupid, stupid secret that you want more than everything to tell him, but you can't, at the same time. No. You won't.

"Little one... Please." His eyes are the epitome of mesmerizing, deep crimson, and that color full of the sorrow his eyes are spilling makes you want to cry out in pain. "Why can't you tell me? I don't want you to be sad."

"I can't," you parrot, not mentally kicking yourself, but mentally beating the snot out of yourself.

He leaps over the back of the couch to sit next to you, something that should've been so much louder, and somehow, he was so quiet. Your back is against the arm rest and his back is facing the other arm rest. He's crouched like a cat at first; you can tell without even looking up. But then, he's not.

He's not and he's slumped down, energy so obviously sucked from his form. He's slumped down to pout at you and to plead with those dark, dark blood-red eyes of his. Your little body readies itself for another fleeing, but something quite odd stops you.

How many other times have there been? So many where he's there, he's in your fingertips holding your cards, sweeping your hair from your eyes, licking your lips with your tongue solely for the bloodlust in the heat of a duel. And also, not solely, you think, because he's not like that anymore, to protect you and find himself. You remember sitting back and looking, staring, gawking in awe at his bravery, his confidence, his swan grace that makes your face heat up twenty minutes before you know it. You remember sitting back and doing nothing. You wanted to be helping, but the most you could do was renounce your body to him.

Coupled, but hidden away with the magicks to retrieve a pharaoh's memories, was the revival of that pharaoh. His form came to be on its own, renewed from the mummy it had been, and you felt so empty during the time before you found him, when he was shivering and trying to scream, wrapped in rotted linen and musky, stuffy darkness. And still you watched him, his grace and strength, wishing only to come close to him, his magical and human perfection.

And you don't flee.

You don't flee because now you're going to be brave by not sitting back, by not running away and your chest swells to accommodate your sporadic heartbeat. And with the excitement, with this sudden reckless high you're getting, you're so scared and so petrified and maybe that's why you can't move. Maybe you're not brave at all but so frightened that you can't even run from him like you really want to. No.

No, you scream inside yourself, no, I'm doing this.

You never wanted to run from him, that's not it at all. You wanted to run, but from the storm killing you inside. So you let that storm sweep past your eyes, lifting them so your other can see and look truly amazed. You're going to beat down that storm, but let it fuel you for now.

And your darkness, in the fleeting second between the glimpse he sees of the passion in your eyes and when you finally jump forward, there's an unbelievable glow in his eyes that had been fading away with the air thick from doubts. That glow grows when you let him see you, you swear. You swear you see that liquid fire in his eyes shift to hope, something that just pushes you along and makes you feel nervous and happy and shaking all over.

And then you unbend the knee you were sitting on, which shoots you into him, but not without him producing a dark gasp to express his surprise. Suddenly you're on his lap, holding him as close as you can, still so scared, but too confused and torn from all of the different types of butterflies ravaging your stomach. And when he hums into your chest, everything drops for you to know. You know that you're supposed to always comfort him like this and he's supposed to always protect you.

You know that no matter what happens, how ever bad things get, you know that he'll always be there as long as his mortal soul is vulnerably intact. He'll always stay by your side. He'll always be a dark prince, always getting used to having a companion because unless you don't accept him as one, he'll stay with you.

It sounds horrible, like unreal lies when you run it over in your head, but your proof is under you and in your arms and that's the umpteenth time you had to try not to pass out.

You could tell him you hate him. You could love him then betray him. You could make him believe you still loved Téa and no one else. You could tell him the truth. No matter what.

He'll always love you.

And that's when you do pass out.

Black.


End file.
